I am not sure if I actually remember how to write—here or anywhere else. My last post that contained any actual writing was on April 22, and since then, I must confess, I have only done writing that I had to do for school. Since April 22, I have completed a fake application packet and an annotated bibliography that had something like 60 or so sources on it. While it wasn’t much writing, not like the usual three seminar papers at the end of the semester, the two assignments were a little nerve-wracking because they were the last two of the last semester of coursework for my terminal degree. I wanted to go out well, and I did. I was pleased with my grades.
Not surprisingly, I have frequently been thinking about grace and peace. I just read a story, in Reader’s Digest of all places, about an older man who owned one of the first integrated textile mills in South Carolina. When his worker’s complained that the factory was integrated, his response was this: “You are getting paid twice what any other textile workers are getting paid. If you don’t like, you can always work somewhere else.” They all stayed. The grace I find in Sandor Teszler‘s story amazes me. God’s grace and human grace commingle with honesty to make this man another person to look up to.
Given his life story, I think it is remarkable that Teszler lived by the conviction that all people are inherently good, and I agree. I think that somewhere, deep-down, everyone is good. I have to believe this because God keeps putting people in my life that both make me doubt this and who reaffirm this for me.
I am sitting in the Blue Bottle writing this and I am watching the acts of grace unfold around me. A woman who is blind was escorted in by one of the MITS Plus drivers, who seated her and then alerted the staff that she might need some assistance. The driver calls her by name, Jenny, and pats her on her back before she leaves. Then the girl who works here comes to take her order. She sits across the table from Jenny and reads the entire menu for her, places her order, and when the food is done, brings her plate, puts it in front of her, and explains that the sandwich is very hot. She tells her where the food is located on the plate. Not many places, or many people, care enough to provide such service to their patrons with disabilities. The bus driver comes back while Jenny is waiting for her coffee to go, so she waits and then lets Jenny take her by the arm. They walk to bus together.
On this same spiritual front, trying to think positively is going well. It seems to make less stressful when I can do it. However, I am still trying to keep myself from getting sucked back into the negative vortex that I was in for most of the school-year this year. I just wrote on a friend’s blog that it seems like once I get one thing in my spiritual life straight, I find another that I need to work on. Sometimes I get annoyed that I can’t get it all right all at once, and sometimes, I get annoyed that I can’t even get part of it right, part of the time. But I do have hope.
I was going to start studying for comps today, but I decided to give myself this week to relax, read, and write. I have tons of studying to do, because I am not overly familiar with any time period outside my own. I mean I could probably mention a couple of texts in each time period, but to be able to write a cohesive essay using any of them, is a little out my comfort range.
Here is the planned schedule for this summer, because I know some people will want to know:
From May 18 through June 19 (with the exception of June 6-13 because I will be on vacation with the family), I will use all day Tuesday and Thursday and part of the day on Saturday and Sunday to study for comps. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I will work on my assistantship.
From June 22 through August 14 (with the exception of July 25-31 because I will be on vacation with Merideth), I will study while Bec is at work and use the lovely Daylight Savings Time—light until midnight—to paint the house. Probably the weekends will work well to pull up the carpet and to allow myself to have a little bit of fun. I think we can pull it up room by room, and the pain-in-the-ass part will be removing all of the staples. Augh! Good thing we have friends and neighbors for that!